


Over The Line, Your Voice Lights Me On Fire

by ISC



Series: Honey [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Canonical Character Death, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, implied/referenced PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-31 00:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10888515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ISC/pseuds/ISC
Summary: When he gets the first voicemail Bucky listens and deletes without a second thought. New phone now that he's back, probably just a simple misdial. With the second, he listens and deletes, convinced that the caller will realize their mistake when this ‘Jarvis’ never returns their call. The third and fourth he keeps with guilty conscious because there is something about the other man's voice that his broken brain latches onto. With the fifth, tearful and pleading, Bucky confesses to Steve who convinces him to call the number and tell the guy he misdialed. When he finally begins to work up the nerve the sixth comes through it stops him in his tracks.‘Hey Jarvis, just me. I’m OK, mostly. A little beat up, but hey, that’s Howard. I just wanted… I just.... goddammit. Fuck J I miss you so much! God. Final semester of MIT starts soon and Rhody won't be there and you aren't here because you're gone and it's all my fault!’Broken sobbing interrupted the message and Bucky felt his heart constrict.‘Why’d you have to die Jarvis? Why’d you have to leave me alone with Howard? I need you. I… '





	Over The Line, Your Voice Lights Me On Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for reference to suicide and child abuse. Please read with caution.

\--

 

Bucky grunted, frustrated with the lack of mobility from his prosthetic arm. The damn thing was apparently a medical marvel, a prototype from Hammer Tech that left much to be desired. It lacked the range of motion and motor function that had been promised, it was also heavy as fuck. Cussing, Bucky glared at the sleek new phone, eyes watering with frustration. Why did he need a touch screen phone? It was hard to use one handed.  
Steve had handed it to him this morning, it was programmed with his number, along with each one of their little group of friends. And because Steve was just about a perfect human being, the background of the phone was a cheesy picture of the group at the beach. Now if only he could figure out how to get to his own voicemail, all would be good with the world. 

Eyebrows furrowed, Bucky threw himself down on his bed, heavy boots thumping on his wall as he kicked his feet up. After a few minutes of fumbling he found the infernal button he needed, practically cackling in glee as he tapped the speaker and play buttons in that order. 

_’Hey Buck! Hope you found your voicemail! It’s Friday, I’m grabbing pizza on my way home, Sam and Clint are coming with me. Nat will probably be there, maybe Thor, before we get home with food. Change your skanky shirt Jerk! Love ya man. See you around 6.’_

Bucky grinned, Steve always told him he loved him. It was a funny quirk. Most guys, particularly ex-military like he and Steve both were, _most guys_ shirked the formalities of actually saying they loved their friends. Hung up on things like masculinity and heteronormative behaviors. Not Stevie though. Steve didn’t give a flying fuck about your comfort levels or hidden homophobic hang ups. If he felt something, he said it. He also hugged and cuddled and complimented without a second thought, regardless of gender. It was a wonderful thing about him. The amazing part was how the entire group of them had changed around Steve. All of them, even the notoriously icy Natasha, were more open and loving with each other. It was a little bit amazing and absolutely 100 percent Steve. 

Shaking his head, Bucky hit ‘save’ and listened patiently for the next message. 

_‘Hey Jarvis, it’s me.’_ Brow furrowing, Bucky hit the pause button and peered down at the displayed number. There was no contact name. Must be a wrong number. Glancing around (checking for Steve and his Frown of Disapproval-capital letters absolutely necessary) Bucky sunk down in his bed and hit rewind and then play, flicking off the speaker to press the phone against his ear. 

_‘Hey Jarvis, it’s me. I know I haven’t called in a while but I just got home from school. One more semester then I’m done with college, can you believe it? It’s weird, coming home and you not being here. Howard didn’t hire anyone else. Guess he doesn’t want to risk anyone else coming in and seeing him drink until he blacks out.’_

The voice chuckled, a dark, sad sound that made Bucky frown. _‘He’s… a little meaner than he was last summer, no surprise there. Mamma is gone a lot, charity galas and shit like that. Sorry. **Stuff like that.** I… I just… I miss you J. This place isn’t home without you here. **Shit** That’s Howard yelling for me. I gotta go. I… I kind of hope I see you soon. I love you. I’ll call again. Bye.’_

The voicemail ended with a beep, making the frown on his face darken. He had heard gruff screaming in the background near the end of the message. Whoever ‘Howard’ was-he seemed like an asshole. Staring down at the phone, and the number displayed, Bucky debated for a minute before hitting ‘delete’. The guy would figure it out when this ‘Jarvis’ guy didn’t call him back, seemed like they were tight.

The front door banged open, Nat’s voice filtering through with Thor’s deafening bellow shaking the woodwork. Tossing his phone on his bed, Bucky hopped to his feet, message already forgotten as he sought out his friends. 

-oo00oo-

He got another voicemail about a week later. The little notification sign had popped up when he was in group with Sam, Steve’s number along with the unknown pinging his voicemail while Clint seemed to have sent him about 30 texts. He waved off Sam’s offer to walk home together, knowing the other man had work across town. He read his texts while he walked but waited until he was tucked away at home in his bedroom before he listened to his voicemails. He had saved every voicemail from Steve, an impressive 15 in just one week. They ranged from long and rambling to short and neat. Everyone of them ended with ‘Love ya’, and, as embarrassing as it was, it was why each one was now archived on his phone. 

Hitting ‘play’, Bucky pressed the phone against his ear, feet once more swinging around to plant themselves on his wall, head dropping over the edge of the mattress.

_‘Hey Jerk! You’ll never believe what happened! The gallery took three of my pieces! Three! Can you believe it? Gosh. I’m so excited! Three! The big ones too! The curator, Lisa, said that if it went well we could look into getting a small show set up with a few artists with my stuff as the main event! Do you think I should get an agent? I don’t know. I’ll have to call a lawyer? I dunno. Oh my gosh Buck. Three! **Three!** I’ve got a shift at the store tonight, can you do food? Let me know if you can’t, no stress man. I gotta go. I’ll call you on my way home. Love ya! **THREE!** ’_

Bucky laughed. Steve was something else sometimes. But damn, getting three pieces chosen for the premier event of Stark Gallery? That was amazing. There were thousands of artists from all over the world submitting their work for the event, and for Steve to get multiple pieces chosen for their limited wall space it was truly amazing. Saving the message, Bucky peered down at the next voicemail with a considering look. The number looked familiar. 

_‘Hey Jarvis, it’s me. I know I usually call sooner but it’s been a rough week. Howard’s got me against the wall with deadlines. Apparently I have to produce a complete spec for a new piece of shit for his precious company by Sunday. It’s not like I’m getting paid, but he says it to repay the money he’s spending sending me to school. Whatever. I wanted to work more on dummy, he’s almost done, did I tell you? I’ve programmed him to be a helper bot but I think he’s got a glitch. He’s always throwing water on me. It’s kind of hilarious. My advisors say he’s a guaranteed ‘A’. Apparently the learning AI I designed is pretty far out there. I’ve got a couple companies sniffing around me. I really wish dad-Howard- would listen to me about it. AI’s are the future, not the shit he pedals. I just… I wanna change the world J. I wanna make it easier for people all over. There is so much amazing out there. Remember when we went to Ethiopia last year? Or Chad the year before that? I just. I can do more than what Howard wants me to. I’ve been working with my friend Bruce. We think we’ve begun to find a way to purify water that might actually be affordable. If only Howard would **listen**. I don’t get it J. How can you look at the world and not want to fix it? How can you not want to make things better? I don’t understand. I know you always say it’s not Howard’s fault-that nonno was the one who started it all-but. Howard has the money to actually change things but he’d rather spend it on his fucking cars! Sorry. Sorry. I’m just. I’m frustrated. Look, I gotta go. I’ll call you again soon. I miss you, wish I was there. Uh, bye J. I love you.’_

Bucky pulled the phone away from his ear as the message beeped. It was the same guy as last time, this time his voice had been a little more vibrant, less sad. Whoever ‘Howard’ was he seemed like a grade-A asshole. And the voicemail guy? Other than having an extremely pleasant speaking voice, seemed like a thoughtful guy. He’d never met anyone who willingly traveled to third world countries to learn or help or whatever it is that he and ‘Jarvis’ had done there. He almost felt guilty as the thumbed the ‘delete’ button, it felt almost rude to ignore the message, particularly as it wasn’t even for him. 

Glancing at the clock, Bucky guessed he had maybe an hour to get food before Steve called. With one more look at the number, Bucky tapped ‘delete’ and hopped to his feet. For some reason Italian sounded great. Plus, he had to call all their friends and buy champaign. Steve deserved a celebration. 

-oo00oo-

Bucky screamed through his teeth, arms flexing as he ripped the drawers out of his desk, flinging them against the wall. Rage coursed through him like a thunderstorm as he rampaged. Flinging his chair out into the hallway, Bucky flipped his mattress off his bed, prosthetic fingers shredding the sheets. 

“FUCK! Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Goddamn!” Kicking his trash can across the room, Bucky snarled, shoulders hunched as he started to come down. Some days he couldn’t stop the torrent of ‘no no no’ in his mind. Some days, the little, shitty, things people did made the hair trigger that was his mind fly off the handle. 

Reaching for his phone, Bucky tried not to crush it as he sought out his voicemails. There was one from Steve from last week that had been light and happy. He hoped the sound of it would calm him down. Tapping ‘play’ Bucky mourned the lack of buttons to mash as he shoved the phone against his ear, needing to hear Steve’s soothing voice.

 _’Hey Jarvis, it’s me._ ’ Snarling, Bucky almost threw the phone across the room. That wasn’t Steve dammit! It was some stupid guy who didn’t know how to check the number he dialed! He was ready to yank the phone away, hit redial and snarl down the line at the man when the next line stopped him. ‘ _We did it!_ ’ The voice was, for the first time, jubilant. Nearly giddy with excitement. Something inside of him, something inside of the storm that rumbled in his gut, calmed at the sound of the other man’s laugh.

 _’It’s amazing J! Bruce and I found a compound that can purify water up to 97 percent! It’s incredible! Howard nearly knocked my teeth out when he found out I was still working on it, so I’m making Bruce take most of the credit. We’re gonna name it ANA. Bruce was totally cool about the name, said he understood. I think she would have been proud to have this named after her. You should see Bruce, he’s so excited. This will finally get him enough freedom and funding to work on gamma radiation like he’s been wanting. I’m splitting my take from it, I already made Bruce promise to keep my name off of it, if Howard gets wind he’ll take every dime. And I want to help fund Bruce’s research and send money to the Water Relief Fund until we can get this thing in production. I know it’s a few years away but when it hits. Man. It’s gonna change the world!_ ’ 

The voice laughed again, and Bucky let himself collapse on his torn up mattress on the floor, tension seeping out of him. 

_’It’s so amazing J. Bruce said he’d go with me to Ethiopia next summer, there’s a group of people looking to build schools. Rhody said he would go if he could, but he will probably be on tour. That’s OK, Rhodes looks good in his Air Force uniform. Can’t talk long today, Howard’s got like, 20 projects for me, and I’ve only got another 5 weeks of summer. So I’ll call you later. I miss you! I love you! Bye J!_ ’

Bucky blinked slowly, body sagging, finally relaxed. It was a little perplexing. Only Steve had ever been able to pull Bucky out of an episode before. His oldest friend had always been his port in the storm, no matter what type of storm he happened to be in. He and Steve went back to diapers, their mothers had been friends, and they had been together since birth because of it. Steve was a type of comfort most people never found, even in spouses, he knew exactly what to say to calm Bucky down, and if he wasn’t there to say anything, the sound of his voice could work just as well. 

But, for the first time since coming home, since losing his arm, since laying underneath that tank, body in agony, Bucky was calm from something that wasn’t Steve. The stranger on the phone had that same cadence to his voice that Steve did. Their voices were nothing alike, really. Steve was a boy scout, chipper and upbeat while the stranger on the phone sounded a little bit like his voice was pitched for crazy ideas and sex.

Licking his lips, Bucky peered around his room now that the fog was lifted. He had pretty much destroyed his desk, and his chair was crumpled in the hallway, thankfully metal and therefore unbroken. His bedsheets would have to be sewn, Steve would probably help him. Breathing deeply, Bucky closed his eyes for a minute, trying to keep his balance. 

He peered down at his phone again, the stranger in his voicemail never seemed to mind that this ‘Jarvis’ never returned his calls. No one had to know about this one message. Glancing around his room again (checking for Stevie and his Frown of Disapproval), Bucky hit ‘save’ and ‘replay’ in that order, dropping back to lay down as he pressed the phone against his ear. 

_’Hey Jarvis, it’s me._ ’

-oo00oo-

The chirp of his voicemail was the first noise he heard when he turned his phone back on. He, unlike Steve, couldn't resist the temptation of distraction when he left the infernal device on, so he resigned himself to turning it off every night when he went to bed like an _old_ person. He hadn’t told Stevie yet about the voicemails, he had promised himself he would say something if another one popped up. He felt guilty, not telling the phone stranger that he was leaving messages with the wrong person. The sheer idea of calling the stranger and telling him, however, left him filled with anxiety. 

Casting his eyes around the room, Bucky dug his feet into the new seams Steve had sewn into his bed sheets, toes worrying at the thread as he stared down at the notification. He’d tell Steve. Maybe Steve would call the guy for him. Maybe Steve would tell him not to worry about it. Maybe. Maybe he could listen to this voicemail before he told Steve. What if the guy had realized his mistake and called and left a voicemail saying he was sorry he had the wrong number all this time? What if he needed someone to help him? 

Blinking, Bucky frowned at the pit of anxiety in his stomach. This whole thing made him want to vomit. Or cry. 

Whatever.

Lifting the phone to his ear, Bucky glared at his bedroom door and hit ‘play’.

He wasn’t going to think about it.

 _’Hey Jarvis, it’s me._ ’

Gosh, but the guy sounded downright pretty with that happy breathlessness in his voice. Bucky closed his eyes and tried to picture a face.

 _I know it’s been awhile. Almost two weeks. I got to visit Rhodey. He was home for a bit last week, he ships out next Thursday. Mama Rhodes called me and had me fly in for a surprise. Air Force is good for him, he looks happy. I’m glad it hasn’t made him all weird. He still lets me climb into his bed. It’s, nice. It’s kind of like when I was a kid and I’d climb into bed with you and Ana._

The guy laughed, low and rumbling and pleasant in a way that Bucky couldn’t define. It was a laugh that he enjoyed but it made him almost uncomfortable, like a balloon was in his chest. Shivering, Bucky pulled back on the bar beneath the phone number, rewinding the voicemail so he could hear the laugh again. And again once more before letting it play out. 

_It was really nice seeing Rhodey again before he goes. I’m gonna miss him. Especially next year at school. Never been without Rhodey. If I wasn’t going for my third I could have graduated with him. Dunno if it would have been different, but it might have been. Ah, well. Howard is out on business this week, which is great. I even saw mamma for a minute yesterday. I’ve got a few of the projects from dad-Howard-done. So I’m gonna sneak and do some coding on dummy for the rest of the day. I miss you J. I love you. I’ll call again soon. Bye!’_

Something heavy seemed to chip away from his chest, something dark and gritty that had sat, huddled under his heart since Afghanistan, since gunfire and tanks and grenades. Taking a deep breath, Bucky let himself have this moment, anxiety free and feeling lighter than he had in years. 

He would tell Stevie. He would. He just wanted another moment to himself. Just one.

Staring down at the dull metal of his prosthetic, Bucky concentrated, gritting his teeth when the arm whined and started to respond to his command, metal fingers curling into a loose fist. Brown eyes, he decided. Brown eyes like warm honey. Almost amber, but brown. The stranger on the phone had brown eyes.

Closing his eyes, Bucky took a deep breath and hit replay.

-oo00oo-

Steve’s Frown of Disapproval was heart wrenching, and Bucky felt like the lowest, scummiest, dirtiest trash to have ever lived. Steve hadn’t even said a word, he had just tilted his head, eyebrows drawn in sympathy and understanding. He had grabbed the back of Bucky’s neck, pressed their foreheads together and _sighed_. He sighed! Bucky had pleaded forgiveness, begged Stevie not to be mad before promising to call the guy back the next time he got a voicemail and set the whole situation right. He had gotten a kiss on his forehead and Stevie’s winning smile as reward. He then promised to cook dinner and shuffled away before his friend could do something truly embarrassing, like tear up in pride. Which he had done anyway. 

The beautiful bastard. 

It was that smile that kept his nightmares at bay, instead he dreamt of brown eyes ke honey and a voice that promised secrets and ideas and sex. 

Three chimes greeted him when he turned his phone back on. Three voicemails. Each from the same number. The stranger in his voicemail. Bucky swallowed thickly. He wasn’t ready to give this up. But he had to. This person was probably thinking he was being ignored by someone who seemed important to him. It was wrong of Bucky to let this go on. 

With a deep breath, Bucky selected the first message and hit play, metal hand whining lowly as it curled into a fist. 

_‘Hey Jarvis, just me. I’m OK, mostly. A little beat up, but hey, that’s Howard. I just wanted… I just.... goddammit. Fuck J I miss you so much! God. Final semester of MIT starts soon and Rhody won't be there and you aren't here because you're gone and it's all my fault!’_

Broken sobbing interrupted the message and Bucky felt his heart constrict. What happened? Why was he beat up? Why was Jarvis gone at all? The voice was agony. The raw pain made something dark unfurl in Bucky’s stomach. Something he couldn’t put a name to. 

_‘Why’d you have to die Jarvis? Why’d you have to leave me alone with Howard? I need you. I… I’m sorry I never told you how much you mean to me. I know Howard hired you, I know I’m not your kid, but you were more of a father to me than Howard ever could be. You were always there. Every time I needed you. I wish you could be there when I graduate MIT like you were for High School and my science fairs and all those stupid fucking awards. I wish... I wish I could see you one more time. I wish you could be here, I wish you could hug more, tell me how much I matter to you. I. I love you J. I hope you knew that. I never told you because dad-Howard would have killed me if he heard. But I do. I love you. You always…’_

The message cut off abruptly with a beep, making Bucky curse and scramble to hit play on the next one.

_’I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry Jarvis. If I hadn’t gotten in trouble you never would have gone out to get me. You never would have spun out. You never would have died. I’m so sorry J. I haven’t had a drink since, I promise. Not one. I’m staring at this stupid goddamn bottle of scotch and I won’t drink it. Because every time I want it I close my eyes and see your face. Busted to hell and cold. You’re never cold J. You were always warm. Now you’re cold. Cause you’re gone. And you’re with Ana and I miss you so much. I want… I want to be with you. I wish I was there. I wish I was with you. I want... Please, please can I be with you? Please…’_

Bucky was numb, body rigid and cold. 

_’Wish I was there.’_

The stranger on the phone always ended his voicemails the same way. _‘Wish I was there.’_

He hadn’t realized that the last two messages had been happy. Almost upbeat. And the stranger hadn’t said it.

 _’Wish I was there.’_ He hit play on the last message.

 _’I think Howard broke my arm. But, I think I can do it with my left hand. I won’t do it here though. Mamma doesn’t need that. Howard does, the fucker, but not mamma.’_

There was a faint click, metal over metal, that Bucky would recognize over the thrill of a concert hall. The sound of a clip being slowly, painstakingly loaded with bullets was one of the sounds in his dreams. 

_I wanted to call Rhodey, but he would have known. He would have tried to stop me. He’s on his last few days before he ships out. He doesn’t need my shit ruining his life. Not again. I’m just… I wrote him a letter. I’ll stick in in the mail when I leave. Before. Before I leave. I want him to take care of dummy. I want… I want to see you again J. You and Ana. I think it will hurt, but only for a minute. I know enough to know how to aim. I’m gonna take a few helpers, cause I’m doing this with my left hand. I always shoot with my right. I don’t wanna fuck this up. I. I love you Jarvis. I wish I believed that I could see you after. But. Fuck. I just want to sleep. I love you. Thank you for raising me. Thank you for teaching me to shave. Thank you for teaching me how to drive. How to ask out a girl. How to ask out a guy. Thank you for teaching me how to love. Thank you for loving me. Just. Thank you Jarvis. I never would have been anything without you. I just wish I had told you when you were alive. I love you. See you soon, right?_

The message ended with a beep. Bucky sobbed, panic welling inside of him. He couldn’t do nothing! He had to.. 

_’Wish I was there.’_

The sound of bullets clanking together rang in his ears.

Bucky dialed the number. 

_’Hello?’_

Sobbing with relief, Bucky scrambled up. “Uh, hi. Look. My name is Bucky. You’ve been calling and leaving me these voicemails, and I shouldn’t have listened, but I did, cause your voice calms me down when I’m having a bad day. And I have a lot of bad days ‘cause, um, PTSD? I should have called, or texted, or whatever, after the first message. But, I just. I was so scared. Lots of things scare me right now. But you, you have this voice. And I liked it. And I’m so sorry ‘cause this shit you’ve been saying is private and I listened and that’s such a dirty thing. And I’m sorry. But you can’t kill yourself! Please. **Please** don’t. I know you probably wanna like, hit me or something now. Which, fine, fair, but you can’t do that if you’re dead, yeah? I ain’t much for talking, but I listen real good. And. You can call me. You can leave messages to, um, Jarvis, if you need to. I promise I won’t listen if you don’t want me to. Just, please, don’t die.”

The guy on the other side was quiet, softly breathing in Bucky’s ear. “Tony.”

“Uh, huh?”

“Tony, my name is Tony.”

Air whooshing out of his lungs, Bucky felt like collapsing. “Tony. Hi.”

“I feel like I should be… embarrassed or mad or whatever.”

“You should be mad, not embarrassed, but mad, yeah. What I did? Uncool. My friend Stevie, he lives with me, takes care of me like, all the time, but yeah. Stevie gave me the look. No. The Look. Capital letters. Made me feel like I murdered a dozen kittens. He didn’t say anything. Just gave me The Look. And I was gonna call you, after you called again. ‘Cause I shouldn’t have listened to your voicemails. And… I’m sorry. Really.”

That breathless, sad little laugh warmed Bucky from the inside. 

“I know I should be mad. But. You have this gruff thing going on with your voice. And, really man, I didn’t know anybody had been assigned this number yet. I was just. I’ve called and left Jarvis voicemails every week since I was 13. After he died I just. Didn’t stop.”

“Can I. Uh. Well. I mean. Who is… Jarvis?”

Tony laughed, it was almost a happy sound. “Jarvis was hired as my handler, um, butler? Sort of. He raised me. Like a nanny I guess.”

“I’m sorry he died.”

“Me too.”

“Look, Tony, I know you don’t know me, and really, I don’t know you from Adam. But. I mean. This feels rude. Like, I can feel Stevie glaring at me and reprimanding me for it already, but please. Don’t kill yourself. I don’t know what you have going on in your life. I don’t know you. But. Selfish reason? Your voicemails have kind of kept me going for the past few weeks. And. I mean. I left the apartment when it was raining yesterday. And that’s a big deal for me. A Big Deal.”

“Capital letters?”

Chuckling, Bucky nodded as he replied. “Yeah. Capital letters.”

“I. Well. You.” Tony cleared his throat. “What I mean to say. You have PTSD? And my voice helps?”

“Yeah. I know it’s weird. But I have a few voicemails from Stevie that I saved, ‘Cause they used to help the most. But I, uh, well, I saved a few from you and they help more. And, yeah. Your voice.”

“Bucky…”

“I know you don’t owe me anything. I know you don’t. But. Please. Just. Stay alive? You said… you said you’re almost done with school, yeah? Can you, I dunno, move away from your dad after school? Can you… I mean. You’re graduating college right? So you’re what? 23? 24? You can move away. I can help you. I will. Stevie will too. He’s like that.”

“I turned 18 in May.”

“What?”

Tony laughed again. This time it did sound happy. And it was wonderful. “Started college, well, MIT, when I was 13. I got two of my doctorates last year. I am finishing up my third and final one this semester. I graduate in December.”

“I… what?!”

“Yeah, certified genius, of sorts.”

“Of sorts, he says. Like, yeah, hi. I have three doctorates but I’m not old enough to rent a car. Yeah. Jesus man. That’s incredible.”

“Thanks.”

“So, look, you’re 18 now, and once you graduate your da’ can’t hold school over your head so, like, you can move then. Right?”

“I… Where would I go Bucky? My dad wants me in his business. Wants me designing weapons. I don’t have any money of my own. I gave away my shares of ANA, I have… nothing.”

“Where do you live? I know you’re in MIT, but, this number is New York.”

“Well, yeah. My family lives upstate.”

“Well. Look. Finish school. Get that measly final doctorate. Text me. Call me. Every day or all day or whatever you need. And when you graduate. Come here. I live in Brooklyn. You can stay here. With me. And Stevie.”

“Bucky…”

“No, seriously Tony! I mean it. You can stay here. You can live here. You can stay forever and make pizza if you want. You can stay until you get a job offer or you invent something amazing to change the world and move to Malibu with your self earned billions. I don’t care which.”

“Bucky…”

“James Barnes.”

“Tony Stark.”

Bucky sucked a breath in through his teeth. He knew that name. “That explains a lot man. I met your da’ once. What a horrible man.”

Tony laughed, and it was truly happy. “I’ve got another 13 days before I go back to school. Can I meet you before I sign the lease?”

Chuckling, Bucky felt the writhing of anxiety in his gut release. “Of course. Can you make it to Brooklyn? Or you want me to come to you? Meet in middle?”

“No one needs to be subjected to Howard Stark, I’ll meet you in Brooklyn. When is good for you? And where?”

“Uh. Tomorrow? There’s a coffee shop on Marcy. Cozy Coffee?”

“I have actually been there.”

“Well. Um. Noon? Tomorrow? Cozy Coffee?”

“Yeah. Let’s do that. Only. How will I know who you are?”

“I’ll wear a black shirt with a big red star in the center. And I’ll be the guy who looks like he has severe constipation. According to my friend Clint.”

Tony laughed again. “Alright. Red star. I’ll be there at noon Buckaroo.”

-oo00oo-

Bucy was going to die. 

He knew it.

One of these seemingly harmless coffee patrons was probably a sleeper agent and they were going to activate and kill Bucky with a soup spoon. Natasha said it could be done. He believed her. She was scary.

Gulping down his water, Bucky stared at the chilling cup of coffee he had ordered an hour ago. 

At 10:30am. 

When he got here. 

Early. 

Way to early.

He was going to die.

“Bucky?”

Jerking around, Bucky nearly sent his cold coffee flying as he whipped around to the sound of a familiar voice. “Tony?”

Tony was shorter than he imagined. With black hair and black clothes and black shoes. He had scars on his fingers, burns and callouses and bandaids. His right hand was in a cast. Lifting his eyes from his hands, Bucky let his eyes trail up, he was too thin, and felt his breath catch. 

**Oh.**

Split lip, black eye, what was very obviously fingers bruised on his long, slender throat. Bucky swallowed his anger at the glaring signs of abuse. 

Tony smiled, teeth stark white against his olive skin.

Tony Stark was gorgeous. 

“Hi.”

Bucky smiled, nerves forgotten. “Hi.”

He had brown eyes. And when he smiled? They sparkled like warm honey.

**Author's Note:**

> I grew up with my grandfather less than 100 yards from me. He was the love of my life. He died at the beginning of my final semester of college. For a long time I would text or call his number, just to tell him I loved him. Just because I always had done it and it felt wrong to stop.
> 
> That is what inspired this.


End file.
